A Little Change
by IPreferVerticallyChallenged
Summary: One little decision made by the Dursleys makes all the difference. Wouldn't Harry be a little more confident if he'd had friends before Hogwarts? Would he still be so desperate to befriend Ron? So easily swayed?Or...not? Slytherin!Harry Pre-Hogwarts-Magic
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Harry Potter :-( **

Chapter One

It was just past four o'clock on the afternoon of Friday April 4, when a seven-year-old Harry Potter finally worked up the nerve to return to his aunt and uncle's home.

He was sure the school had called his aunt and uncle and that he would be severely punished. He didn't even know what'd happened. One moment he'd been running from Dudley and his friends as they'd been playing their favorite game, Harry-Hunting, and the next thing he knew, he was on the roof of his school.

The kids in the playground had noticed him standing up there and one of them eventually told a teacher. They got him down and he was taken straight to the principal's office.

Needless to say, no one believed him when he said he hadn't went up the stairway in the janitorial office and instead just appeared on the roof. The principal gave him quite a talking to going on and on about 'respecting "keep-out" signs' and 'staying out of off-limit areas' not even listening to Harry as he explained that he hadn't been anywhere _near_ the janitorial office.

He'd been given detention for two weeks and told his guardians would be getting a phone call.

He dreaded thinking about what his aunt and uncle would do to him. The first time something so strange had happened (he'd turned his teacher's hair blue) he'd been thrown in his cupboard for a month. He wasn't even allowed to eat; he'd had to sneak out of his cupboard at night to get food and use the restroom. And he'd been warned that he was getting off easy and if he did anymore 'funny-business' he'd be _begging_ to only have to spend a month without food in his cupboard.

But he knew he couldn't hide forever, and so he grudgingly goes back home after his hour or so of stalling.

He tries in vain to sneak quietly into his aunt and uncle's house, but the air rings with his uncle's shouts, "BOY!"

"Not so loud, Vernon," Harry's bony, horse-of-an-aunt chides lightly, "What will the neighbor's think?"

"Boy!" Vernon growls, quieter for sure, but with just as much venom, "What's this rubbish about you being on top of the school roof?!"

"I-I didn't mean to," Harry stutters out, "One minute I was running and the next I was on the roof. I didn't mean to, honest. It was an accident!"

Vernon's face, now a nasty shade of purple, is full of disbelief, "Of course you did it on purpose you nasty little beast. Your goal in life seems to be making things hard on Petunia and I who so graciously took you into our home," he drags Harry to the cupboard and throws him inside, "Don't even think this is your punishment; you're only waiting in there while Petunia and I discuss what's to be done with you."

Harry hears the lock slide into place and knows that he's alone.

The inside of the cupboard is dark as only a small beam of light shines through a crack in between the door and the wall, but Harry doesn't mind. He is used to the darkness of his cupboard just as he is used to the spiders that live in the dark with him.

What Harry does mind is the worry of what's to come. He presses his ear to the space that lets in the beam of light and listens.

"What do we do, Pet?" Vernon hisses, "The freak isn't even in year three yet and he's already done you-know-what twice!"

"I don't know," Petunia answers, "What can be done? Those-those _people_ will be coming to take Harry back when he's old enough to go to that school."

"And until then?" Vernon asks, "What are we supposed to do until then? I can't stand having his freakishness around here, Pet. I _won't_."

"What are you suggesting?" she asks quietly.

"I'm saying we drop him off at the nearest orphanage. This is our home. If we don't want him here, we won't keep him here. If the freaks still want to take him to that _school_," he spits 'school' out as if it were a dirty word, "than they can find him on their own later."

"When should we . . .?" Petunia trails off.

"As soon as possible," he says, "Tonight if we can."

"Yes," Petunia says, "I agree. The sooner the better."

Harry lies back on his cot and looks up at his slanted ceiling, _So this is my punishment?_ Harry wonders, _If I'd have known that I wouldn't have to live with the Dursleys anymore, I'd have climbed to the school roof sooner._

* * *

"Get up, Boy," His uncle says, rapping on his cupboard door, "Gather your things and get moving; you're leaving."

Harry's eyes snap open after a particularly unpleasant dream about a mysterious green light and a woman's screams, but unlike the fear and pain from the dream, Harry is excited. He'd finally be free of the Dursleys. He didn't dare hope that he'd be adopted and get a good home, but even an orphanage had to be better than living with his horrid relatives.

Harry gathers his meager belongings, several too-large shirts, a couple pairs of pants, and a yo-yo that Dudley had proclaimed 'stupid' and 'obviously broken' after he had not been able to work it right. Of course after a few minutes Harry could work it just fine, but Harry had been smart enough to keep his mouth shut lest his only toy be taken away from him.

After getting his things together, Harry steps out of his now unlocked cupboard and looks over to his uncle.

"We're sending you off to an orphanage," Vernon spits at him, "I bet you wish you'd stopped with the freakish business now, huh?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry says respectively all the while thinking, _You stupid git. I _want_ to go to an orphanage._

"Yeah, well it's too late now," Vernon says, "No matter what you say now to try and make things better, you're still going to go."

Harry keeps his head down, in an effort not to laugh at Vernon to his face.

Harry is rushed out to the car and climbs inside still keeping his head down, avoiding eye-contact with his uncle, afraid that if Vernon saw how happy Harry was with his 'punishment' he might not get to leave.

The ride to the orphanage is a silent one as the passengers are too happy about never having to see the other again to care about much else, and therefore passes slowly as they both anticipate finally reaching the destination.

Finally though, after a painful amount of waiting, they arrive at the orphanage, "Get out," Vernon says, sharply, "I never want to see you at our door again!"

As Harry jumps out of the car, he does something he's always dreamed of doing, "You look like a walrus!" He shouts before running from a now purple faced Vernon and into the safety of the orphanage.

"Hello?" Harry calls, as he enters the doorway. The room is nice and welcoming. It seems more the type of thing someone would expect in a house than in an orphanage.

"Hello," an elderly woman echoes, stepping into the room, "Are you lost, Dearie?"

"I don't think so," Harry says, "Is this an orphanage?"

"Yes," the woman says, "Lady Gertrude's Home for the Orphaned."

"Then I'm right where I should be," Harry says with a smile, "My uncle just dropped me off. He and my aunt don't want me anymore. My parents died in a car crash when I was a baby."

The old woman's eyes grow watery, "That's terrible. They just left you here?"

_Terrible?_ Harry wonders, _Is she kidding? This is one of the best things that's happened in my life!_

* * *

Harry settles nicely into a room with two other seven-year-old boys, Payton and Cal. After an awkwardly shy introduction, though it was long after they should've been asleep, the three begin chatting about things such as video games (Harry had always snuck out and played Dudley's whenever the Dursleys were gone) and superheroes.

Later that night as Harry lies down in his new bed to sleep, he smiles. _I love this orphanage. I finally have friends_.

Before of course, Dudley scared away any kids who might have even _considered_hanging out with Harry, but now that Dudley and the rest of the Dursleys weren't here. . .

_I love this orphanage._

* * *

The next day, Saturday, was the first real day Harry had at the Orphanage. And it wasn't nearly as pleasant as the night before.

Payton and Cal stuck to him like glue, for which Harry was grateful, but the other children weren't_ nearly_ as welcoming as his new friends had been.

Maybe that's an unfair statement.

Other than the annoying attention directed at him for being the new kid and all the questions that were focused at him, most of the other children weren't that bad.

It was eight of the older boys that spoiled the day for him.

Harry, Paton and Cal had all been outside playing baseball, the first time Harry had ever done so outside of gym class, when they'd come outside.

"We heard there was a new kid here and we all wanted to . . . ah . . ._ welcome_ him to the orphanage," a beefy kid, obviously the leader of the bunch, says with a sarcastic grin as he and his group come over to the smaller children.

Harry, recognizing the kid for a bully instantly, looks to his Payton and Cal, "Are you any good at running?" he whispers.

The two shake their head and he lets out a groan.

The large kid laughs, "So here's how it works," he says, sauntering forward, "My name is Chad and I'm the boss around here. Everything I say goes and anyone who gets in my way . . . well. . ." he cracks his knuckles in a threatening manner.

Something inside of Harry snaps at this behavior. This was supposed to be somewhere where he'd finally be free from this kind of treatment! "You lot think you're so tough, don't you?" Harry mocks, "But you're just a bunch of overgrown bullies picking on a couple of seven year olds."

"What. Did. You. Say. To. Me." Chad asks, face turning purple in an almost Vernon-like way.

"Was. I. Going. Too. Fast. For. You." Harry asks, mimicking Chad.

Chad lets out a threatening growl, "You and your friends are gunna get it!"

"My friends have nothing to do with it," Harry says coldly, "Or do you pick on people who _don't _get in your way too?"

"Fine," Chad growls, "Then I'll just get you twice as bad."

"If you can catch me," Harry says, springing off and running. The orphanage, a large Victorian building that looks more like a house than an orphanage, has large spacious grounds and a wood on the edge of that.

Harry races across the yard and out to the woods, being a fast little thing, he leaves nearly half of the older boys behind. Unfortunately, Chad isn't one of those left behind.

Once in the woods, Harry begins twisting and ducking under branches, but the older boys stay right behind him, barreling there way right through the branches and logs. Eventually Harry hits a dead end; a chain-link fence with a 'private property' sign on it, and turns to face the older boys.

"Take back what you said, New Kid," Chad says.

Harry spits at him.

"Why you-!" He reaches out to make a swipe at Harry and he and his gang of boys find themselves on the other side of the fence.

Harry stares at them, shocked.

"What-What did you _do_?!" Chad screeches, "You _freak_! What'd you do?!"

Harry gapes at them for another moment before running back to the orphanage, ignoring the thugs' shouts.

_How did I _do_ that?_ Harry wonders, no doubt in his mind at all that he was the one that caused the bullies' problem.

_Freak, Freak, Freak,_ the echo of Chad's voice ringing in his head.

_Yes,_ he answers the echo mentally, _But is being a freak necessarily a bad thing? It got me away from Dudley and his friends when they were chasing me, and now it's gotten me away from Chad and his lot. . . maybe . . . if I learned to _control_ it. . . ._

The thought trails off in young Harry's mind as he begins another, _What does this freakishness involve? Is all I'm able to do is move people?_ But then he remembers the day he turned his teacher's hair blue. _No, _Harry realizes,_ I can do more than just move things, but how? Can I learn how to do it whenever I want?_

A very puzzled Harry walks back to the orphanage.

* * *

**I've got the first three chapters written, but as I keep making little changes to them, they won't be posted right away. Let me confess now, after the first three or four chapters: I WILL BE A SLOW UPDATER. Never let it be said I didn't warn you.**

**If you see a mistake in this chapter or any future chapters, PLEASE tell me. Next chapter contains Diagon Ally trip.**

**Reviews? Pweeeaaase?**


	2. Chapter 2

**I own nada.**

Chapter Two

It'd been a year since young Harry had first begun to control his magic or, 'freakishness', as he'd dubbed it. It was just a usual day for Harry; he'd been in the woods practicing his magic (he'd already learned how to make things float and turn small things into other things and was currently trying to figure out how to willingly teleport himself) and when he finally manages to teleport, he comes out nearly on top of a small green garden snake.

"Sorry, Little Guy," Harry mumbles getting out of the way, thinking that's the end of it

What he doesn't expect was for the snake to talk back.

"You speak!" it says in surprise.

Harry's eyes widen, "Y-you talk!"

"Of course I can talk," the small snake says, "Most legged creatures don't understand though."

"B-but why?" Harry asks, "Why can I understand you? I can't understand any other animals, so why do I understand you?"

The snake lets out a hiss that Harry somehow knows is the equivalent of a shrug for a snake, "Some can just understand us. I don't know why. I've heard stories of wizards who could do such things, but I've never met one myself."

"W-wizards?" Harry asks, "Is it-is it _only_ wizards who can talk to snakes?"

The snake nods, "Only wizards and other snakes."

"So what I do, the things I can do that others can't, that makes me a _wizard_?!"

The snake nods again.

"So what about my parents then? Were they like me?" Harry asks, milking the snake for every drop of knowledge he can get.

"I'm not sure," the snake says, "I think there _can_ be wizard born to regular humans, but I don't know how often that happens. It could be the norm, or it could be extremely rare, for all I know; I don't mess with humans, magical or not, as a rule. Most people seem to want to run from, or kill my kind."

"I think you're interesting," Harry interjects.

The snake laughs, "I think you're interesting too. A speaker. Never thought I'd meet one of those. Would you mind us getting together again in the future? Do you come to this place often?"

Harry nods, smiling, "I come here every day and practice the stuff I can do."

"Magic?" the snake asks.

"Er. . .I suppose," Harry says, "I mean, yeah."

"Then I shall see you here tomorrow. . . . ?" the snake trials off.

"Yes," Harry says, "Hey! Before I forget, what's your name?"

The snake groans, "My mother was cruel. My name is Slyther."

"What's wrong with Slyther?" Harry asks, eyebrows pinching together.

"It's so very _generic_."

"Sort of like naming your kid John Smith?" Harry asks.

"What?" the snake asks, "John Smith? That's an _odd _name."

Harry shrugs, "It's just a generic human name."

"Well it's better than Slyther," the snake mumbles.

Harry smiles, "Well than John can be your nickname."

John/Slyther laughs at that, "That's fine by me. And what is your name odd-human-boy?"

"Harry Potter," Harry says.

"Really?" John asks, "That sounds really familiar."

"Well I have a pretty generic name as well. You could've easily heard about a different Harry Potter."

"Well it was nice talking to you," the snake, newly christened John, says, "But I have to go find my lunch now."

"Bye, John," Harry calls, "See you tomorrow."

"Goodbye Harry," the snake calls, "See you later."

As the snake leaves, Harry smiles to himself. _A third friend._

* * *

Life goes on and years pass by. Harry turns nine, and then ten. One of Harry's friends, Payton, gets adopted, but Cal stays his close companion. John, the garden snake, also becomes a close friend of Harry's. Harry is truly happy at the orphanage. Harry's magic progresses, he begins to see his magic as he shapes it, which helps him out as he gets moves on to more powerful magic. Eventually he makes some headway into self-transfiguration (he managed to change his hair green and his eyes black and then switch them back to normal again) as his eleventh birthday approaches.

In fact, Harry was walking back to the orphanage after a self-transfiguration exercise (trying to make himself taller and less stick-like which, sadly, failed) when Cal comes running to meet him, "Harry! I was told to fetch you. There's a weird old man with a long beard come to see you. Something about a school they want you to go to."

Harry follows, puzzled, as Cal leads him back up to the orphanage and into Beatrice's, the nice old woman Harry had first met when he'd come to the orphanage, office.

Indeed, a man with a crooked nose and a long white beard is inside waiting for him, "Hello, Harry," the man says.

"Hello, Sir," Harry responds automatically. Looking around Beatrice's office, Harry notices that he and the man are the only ones in the room. He looks closer at the man himself. He can see magic swirling brightly around the man in bright shades of gold and yellow. Harry's own magic is the same emerald green as his own eyes.

He'd assumed that a person's magic was always the color of their eyes; windows to the soul or some such, but as the man's eyes are a twinkling blue instead of gold or yellow, that proves that theory of Harry's wrong.

"I'm here, Harry, to talk to you about the school that your parents went to. From the minute you were born, your name was on our lists. You don't need to worry about the cost of anything; your parents left you a small fortune for you to get by on until you're of age."

"Is it a school for people like us, Sir?" Harry asks.

"People like us?" The man asks, raising a single brow.

Harry nods, "Wizards, Sir."

The man looks at the boy in surprise, "How did you know I was a wizard?"

"Your aura, Sir," Harry says, "Well maybe that's not what it's called, I don't know. The magic around your body."

"You can see magic?" He asks, his eyebrows receding into his hair-line.

"Of course," Harry says, "Can't you?"

"With a certain spell," the man says, "certainly. But for one so young. . .and _wandless_ at that. I don't think- not even Tom. . ."

"Sir, you're not making sense," Harry tells him.

"I suppose not," he says, "Just know that that's a great feat for one as young as you."

"You said 'wandless' does that-does that mean that there are really magic wands?! Will I be able to get one? Will it strengthen what I can do?"

"Yes, yes," he says with a wave of his hand, "And then at my school, Hogwarts, you'll be taught how to use it. But first tell me what all you can do."

"Um. . ." Harry begins, "Well the first few things I ever did were on accident. I turned my teacher's hair blue and I teleported. The things I can do on _purpose_ though. . ." he pauses, "I can do lots of stuff. I can change things into other things, I can move things, I can teleport things, I can clean things, I can teleport myself, I'm in the middle of learning to change my own appearance. . .Erm. . .I can talk to snakes. . .um. . . and I think that's about it. . .I can see magic, but I already told you that."

"You can do nearly as many things _wandless_ as most first years can with wands," the man murmurs, almost to himself, "And you talk with snakes."

"Where will I get a wand?" Harry asks, "And what is your name?"

The old man looks down at him, "It seems I've been very rude. My name is Albus Dumbledore and I'm the headmaster at Hogwarts. And I can take you shopping for things tonight if you wish. I have your school list for you."

"That'd be great," Harry says, "When can we go?"

"Now if you'd like," Dumbledore says.

Harry smiles and nods, "I'd like that."

"Then grab my arm," he instructs. Harry does as he's told and suddenly, after a jerk to his navel, he finds himself standing in an alleyway, people hustling by as if two people appearing out of nowhere was nothing, "Welcome to Diagon Alley," Dumbledore says.

Harry looks around in wonder. As people in strange robes move all around him, "Here," the professor says, taking out his wand and giving it a swish, he and Harry are suddenly in the same strange robes that all the others are wearing, "This will make you stand out less."

Albus leads Harry to the bank and goes with Harry to his vault to withdraw his money, getting a strange package out of vault 713 after Harry's done.

After the business at the bank is done, Harry splits up with Dumbledore, promising to meet him at the ice-cream shop on the corner whenever he gets everything on his school list.

He makes his first stop at the bookstore. After getting all the required books, Harry grabs a couple extra for some light reading before term starts, _The Arte of Potions, Household Potions: Simple Ingredients Amazing Results, Animagus Transformations, Hogwarts: A History_, _Modern Defense, Transfiguration Miracles: Say Goodbye to Pimples, Scars, and Unsightly Birthmarks, A Thousand and One Hexes and Jinxes,_ and finally _Legilimency: The Lost Arte of the Mynd_.

After watching the witch carefully as she places a shrinking charm on the books (he wanted to learn to do that on his own!) he walks out of the bookshop and over to the clothing store across the street.

Inside he sees a blond-haired boy about his age being fitted for black robes.

"Hogwarts, Dear?" The woman at the counter asks.

Harry nods.

"All right, I'll get you started up then."

She puts Harry on a stand next to the blond boy and throws a robe over his head. She begins sticking in pins here and flourishing her wand there. Harry finds it quite fascinating until the blond boy takes him out of his thoughts.

"You're a Hogwarts too?" he asks.

Harry nods, "Yeah."

"What house are you hoping for?" The boy asks, "I already know where I'm going to be. My whole family has gotten into Slytherin. Of course, Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad, but I'd just _die_ if I ended up in Hufflepuff, you know?"

"There are houses?" Harry asks, "What's the difference between them?"

The blond boys gives him a strange look, "You don't- Are you_ a mud-blood_?"

"What's that mean?" Harry asks.

"It's someone who's born to people who aren't witches or wizards," the boy says looking put off, as if he is somehow disappointed.

"Oh," Harry says, "Well I don't know. My parents died when I was a baby. Although Dumbledore did say that they went to school at Hogwarts when they were kids, so I don't suppose I could be, erm, a _mud-blood_," the unfamiliar word feels funny on his tongue.

"So you're a pureblood who doesn't know anything about the magical world?" the boy asks.

"I don't know," Harry says, "I guess. I assume a pureblood is someone who isn't a mud-blood?"

"Yeah," the boy says, "There are purebloods and half-bloods and mud-bloods."

"Hmmm," Harry says, "I don't know anything about that. I just know that at least one of my parents went to Hogwarts. I think Dumbledore said both of them did, but I don't know for sure."

"Well a half-blood isn't that bad," the boy allows, "I'm a pureblood. A Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," he extends his hand.

"Harry Potter," Harry says, taking his hand.

The witch fitting Harry's robe stiffens and Draco's eyes widen, "Are you really?"

"Yeah. I'm really Harry Potter," Harry says, puzzled by the reaction.

"Well . . . I suppose now we know you're defiantly a half-blood," Draco mutters off hand, seemingly dazed. Then, seeing Harry's puzzlement looks astonished, "Don't you know?"

"Know what?" Harry asks.

"Tell me everything you know about the Wizarding World," Draco says.

"Erm, well, that the people in it do magic like me, only most people have wands and that Hogwarts is a school for magic and Mr. Dumbledore is a teacher there. And that some people can talk to snakes."

"Professor Dumbledore," Draco corrects, "He's called a professor. And no one can talk to snakes anymore, really. Just the Dark Lord."

Harry notices that the sewing women again stiffen at this mention of a 'Dark Lord'.

"That's not true," Harry says, "_I_ can talk to snakes, so you're wrong in saying no one can."

"You can talk to snakes!?" Draco asks.

Harry nods, and Draco shakes his head as if to clear it, "I'll have to ask you about that later, for now I want to get back on topic. Don't you know anything about your own history? Speaking of which, do you really have a lightning bolt scar on your forehead?"

Harry lifts his bangs to show Draco the scar, "How'd you know that?"

"'Cuz," Draco says, "You're famous. When you were a baby you killed the Dark Lord when he killed your parents."

"Th-this 'Dark Lord' person _killed _my parents!?"

"Yeah," Draco says, "How'd you think they died?"

"I was told they were killed in a car crash."

"Oh," Draco says looking down.

Taking a deep breath, Harry asks a happier question, "So, about the houses at school. . .you never did tell me the differences between them."

"Well," Draco begins, obviously grateful for the lighter topic, "Hufflepuff is the worst. It's for rejects that can't make it into other houses. Gryffindor is for the brave or some rubbish like that. Ravenclaw are for the smart. Slytherin are for the cunning and the ambitious. Slytherin's symbol is a snake because the Slytherin's founder, Salazar Slytherin, could speak to snakes. Since you can too, you'll end up in Slytherin for sure."

"Well if that isn't biased, I don't know what is," Harry says, "What have you got against bravery?"

"Bravery is for fools. It gets you killed," Draco says.

Harry shakes his head ignoring him, "Out of what you said I think Gryffindor or Slytherin would be my best bet."

"But the two are polar opposites!" Draco says, "How can you be both?!"

"Well," Harry says, "Like you said, being brave can be a foolish thing and can get you killed, to survive as someone brave, that person must also be cunning. And for someone to be cunning but not brave would be pointless. If you aren't brave enough to take risks, your cunning gets you nowhere."

Draco looks at him with a strange mixture of awe and irritation, "I've never heard anyone put it like that before."

"And this conversation makes me want to bring up the whole topic of mud-blood vs. pureblood thing-"

"Mr. Potter, sir," the woman fitting his robes says, "That word _mud-blood_, it's-it's a bad, bad, _insulting_ word. The proper term is muggle-born."

"Muggle-born?" Harry repeats.

She nods before shooting a glare at Draco, "My father's muggle-born."

"I'm so sorry, Miss," Harry says, "I did not know that. So, erm, right. The whole muggle-born vs. pureblood thing, what's the point in it? What does blood have to do with anything? How are purebloods any better than half-bloods or muggle-borns?"

Draco makes a face, "They just-they aren't as _good_."

"As good at what?" Harry asks.

Draco shrugs, "Magic."

"So if I, a half-blood, am better than you at magic, does that prove that you're wrong?"

"We haven't learned any magic yet," Draco points out.

"So?" Harry says, letting his hair change colors randomly. Red, blue, green, purple, yellow, orange, before finally settling back on its usual jet-black.

Draco's eyes widen again, "H-how'd you do that?"

"Practice," Harry says, "I've been teaching myself magic since I was seven."

"You're strange, Harry," Draco says with a shake of his head, "A super half-blood Gryffindor-Slytherin parceltounge."

"A good strange?" Harry asks.

Draco nods, "Definitely."

Harry smiles.

"Hey, after we're done here, do you want to hang out with me for a while?" Draco asks.

Harry nods, "But I need to stop by the apothecary and I need to get a wand."

"Okay," Draco says, "But after that I want to stop be the pet shop; I was thinking about getting an owl. . ."

"Okay," Harry agrees.

* * *

The apothecary turns out to be boring. There's nothing interesting inside and the _fumes_. They're just strong enough to make you terribly nauseous, but not enough to make you pass out.

After making a quick escape from the nauseous gas, the boys run to Olivander's.

After an annoying amount of time, Harry finally finds a wand (Draco finds it very interesting that Harry's wand is the brother wand to the Dark Lord's) that works for him. The moment he touches it, it sends off a shower of green and red sparks, reminding Harry of Christmas.

The pet shop is more entertaining. Animals of all shapes and sizes are on the inside of the store. Harry finds a companion for John, a snake named Poison an even brighter green than John. She, like most of the other pets in the store, is magical. Harry is told that she can become as small or as large as she wants (within reason) and that she's guaranteed to outlive Harry by at least a hundred years. While Harry was busy finding Poison, Draco was finding the perfect owl.

The boys buy their new pets and head over to the ice-cream parlor. Each ordering a large ice-cream (Harry's a strawberry-peanut butter and Draco's a mint-cherry) while they wait for Dumbledore to take Harry back to the orphanage.

Eventually Professor Dumbledore comes back, very surprised that Harry's hanging out with Draco Malfoy, and tells him it's time to leave.

"Bye then," Harry says with a half-hearted wave.

"Bye," Draco says, "See you on the train?"

Harry nods with a smile. Despite Draco's flaws (bias-edness, annoying-ness, and thinking he's better than others) he's really glad he met Draco.

_Friend number Four._

* * *

**Okay, found some minor mistakes, but I think they're fixed now. So, next up, Hogwarts Express.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sure. I own Harry Potter. . . . Well. . . I do in my dreams.**

Chapter Three

Harry arrives at the train station bright and early on the first day of term.

It's a good thing, because it takes Harry nearly ten minutes to figure out where platform 9 ¾ is. He was actually very lucky to find it. He'd been pacing back and forth between platforms 9 and 10, when he'd noticed that the third beam (exactly ¾ of the way between the platforms) had a magical aura around it.

Wheeling his trolley over to the beam, he'd placed his hand on it, but his hand didn't meet a stone beam; it went right through it. Looking around to make sure that no one was looking at him, Harry walks casually through the beam.

On the other side is his train. The Hogwarts Express. Looking around, he sees that he must still be early; hardly anyone is at the station yet.

Climbing aboard the train, Harry walks by all the compartments, looking inside each, he sees that Draco Malfoy isn't on board yet.

Harry climbs into the compartment at the end of the train with a sigh and begins leafing through _The Arte of Potions _while he waits for Draco to arrive.

After about ten minutes, Harry hears the noise level rising and knows other students are arriving. He hopes Draco will arrive soon.

Just as he finishes the thought, the compartment door opens, and for a moment Harry thinks that Draco finally did show up, but instead a red-head steps through the door.

"Erm, do you mind if I sit in here?" he asks, "There aren't any more empty compartments."

"Sure," Harry says with a shrug, "I don't mind."

"Good," the boy says as he plops down, "Ron Weasley," he says, introducing himself.

"Harry Potter," Harry says.

Ron stares, "Are you really?"

Harry sighs, already annoyed by this reaction, "Yeah."

"Blimey! That- that's-" he shakes his head, "Wow."

Suddenly a rat pokes his head out of Ron's pocket, "There's a rat on your lap," Harry informs him.

"Erm, yeah," Ron says, collecting himself, "He's my pet. His name's Scabbers. He's real boring. My brothers taught me this spell to turn him yellow, but I haven't managed it yet."

"Can I see the spell?" Harry asks, wondering if it's anything like the spells he uses to make his own hair change color.

"I suppose I'll give it a go," Ron says, raising his wand.

Just then the compartment door opens and a bushy-haired girl is standing there, "Have you seen a toad around here anywhere?" she asks.

Both boys shake their heads.

"Oh," she says, "Pity. Were you about to do magic?" she asks, brightening up.

"Well, er," Ron says, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Well, go on," the girl says.

"Um well:

"_Sunshine, Daisies, Butter Mellow,  
Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!"_

He ends his spell with a jab at the rat.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" the girl asks, "Well it isn't very good, is it? _I've_ tried a few spells on my own, and they've all worked for me. My name's Hermione Granger."

"Ron Weasley," Ron says.

"Harry," Harry says, purposefully not adding his last name, "Can I see the rat?" he asks, holding out his hand.

Ron places Scabbers in Harry's outstretched hand, looking puzzled.

Harry concentrates on the rat, weaving his magic over the top of it before laying it on him gently. He rat turns a very bright, neon yellow.

"How'd you do that?" Ron asks, "You didn't even use a spell."

"Simple things don't need a spell," Harry says with a shrug.

Hermione looks at him, "That's not true," she says, "People need spells, even for simple things, unless they're really powerful. If you can do that without even going to school. . ." she trails off, "Harry. . .are you- are you _Harry Potter_?" she asks.

Harry nods and sighs, "Yeah."

"I read all about you in _Rise and Fall of the Dark Ages_ and _Naming He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; What we Know of Tom Riddle_! I suppose it only makes sense for you to be powerful."

Harry sits there, uncomfortable.

Hermione seems to shake herself out of awe, "Anyways, I need to go look for the toad. If you see him, please tell me."

As she closes the compartment door, Poison pokes her head out of Harry's shirt, "Do I smell a rat?" she asks.

"Yeah," Harry answers, "But he's someone's pet. You can't eat him. I'm sure there will be lots of rats at Hogwarts for you to eat."

"You're a parcelmouth!" Ron says.

"Huh?" Harry asks.

"You can talk to snakes," he clarifies.

"Oh. Yeah. Snakes are really interesting. This one here is Poison," he says motioning to her.

"Is he venomous?" Ron asks, edging away from Harry slightly.

"You know," Harry says, "I don't know. But she's a she, not a he. Are you poisonous?" he asks her.

She nods, "Yes. I'm quite deadly. But don't worry. I won't bite anyone . . . unless you want me to of course."

Harry looks back at Ron, "Yeah, she says she's deadly. But she promises not to bite."

Just then the compartment door opens again and Draco steps inside with two huge kids following behind him on either side, "Hey, Harry."

"Hi Draco," Harry responds.

"What're you doing hanging out with a Weasel?" Draco asks in disgust.

Harry frowns, "Why do you have to be such a-"

"At least my father's not a Death Eater. He should be in prison right now, the git. If he hadn't used his _money_ to get out of trouble-"

"Ron!" Harry shouts, "How can you-"

"You're just jealous," Draco says, "Everyone knows your family; too many kids, too little money."

"Draco!" Harry shouts.

The insults fly back and forth as the two hate on each others' families.

"Stop it!" Harry finally shouts. The two boys look at him in surprise, "This fighting is pointless; a giant waste of time. Let's just go, Draco," Harry says standing up and tugging at Draco's sleeve.

"Fine," Draco says, "Bye, _Weasel_."

"Sorry, Ron," Harry says, "Bye."

"Bye," Ron mutters dejectedly.

"What were you doing hanging out with him!?" Draco asks as they exit the compartment, "His whole family are a bunch of blood traitors!"

"If that's anything like muggle-borns and purebloods, I don't want to hear anything of it," Harry says firmly.

Draco shakes his head, "The Weasleys aren't a good bunch. You'll see. Well except maybe the twins. I've heard that they were cool, but you get that every now and then; a good one among a group of bad. Just like every good family has a bad nut, every bad family has a good one thrown in there somewhere."

Harry sighs, "And how do you know that Ron wasn't one of these 'good ones' thrown into their family? He could've been just fine for all you know."

"No," Draco argues stubbornly, "He insulted my family."

"Because you called him a Weasel." Harry points out, "You were the one who started things, and he was just defending himself."

Draco purses his lips, "I suppose so, but I doubt he was a good one. There are already two good people in that bad family; odds are there won't be any more."

Harry sighs, "Well give him a chance just to be sure."

Draco sighs as well, "Fine. I'll try,"

He opens up a door to an empty compartment and climbs inside. Harry follows behind him and spends the rest of the train ride with Draco and his two friends.

* * *

After a time, the train comes to a stop and a loud, gruff voice begins calling out "Firs' years! Firs' years this way!"

Harry and Draco step out of the compartment into the now full hallway followed closely by Draco's huge friends (Harry soon learns that their names are Crabbe and Goyle) and walk to the loud voice.

Stepping off the train, Harry sees a huge man with dark hair and a tangled beard that looks like it could use a good brushing. His hands are as large as lids from a rubbish-bin.

"'Ello!" the giant man says as he spots Harry, "Yeh wouldn' be Harry Potter, would yeh?"

"Erm, yes," Harry says nervously, "I am."

"I was wantin' to see yeh!" the man says excitedly, "I was a friend o' yer parents. Yeh pro'ly don't remember me, but well. . ." he trails off, "My name's Hagrid."

Something about the name is familiar to Harry. Like a dream. Or a dream of a dream, "Flying motorcycles?" Harry says, almost to himself, in confusion.

"Yeh remember tha'?!" Hagrid asks, clearly shocked.

Harry shakes his head, "I think I dreamed it once."

"Oh," Hagrid says, seeming disappointed. He shakes his head in attempt to clear his thoughts before getting back on track, "Right. Firs' years! We're here."

Harry is confused. He can see the great castle, but the group of fist years are nowhere near it. A lake stands between them and the castle.

Suddenly, as if by magic (which actually made sense as Harry thought about it), boats began appearing in the lake.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid shouts.

Harry and Draco sit in silence as they ride to Hogwarts for the first time, pure awe making it impossible to talk about anything. Crabbe and Goyle are silent mostly from lack of intelligent thing to say.

Though the ride to Hogwarts seems agonizingly slow as to boys watch as the castle slowly gets larger and larger as they approach. Eventually they reach the shore, and the first years are all immediately shepherded into Hogwarts.

Harry barely listens as grim-looking a teacher with her hair in a bun talks to the student; he's too busy looking around at everything his eyes can land on. After she is done talking, she leads the students into a huge room.

Four great tables sit in the room, seating hundreds of students.

All attention in the room is focused on a hat sitting on a stool, but Harry pays no attention. He's too busy looking at the portraits (they MOVE!).

What finally gets his attention is the singing.

After all, a talking hat, let alone a singing hat is an object of great interest. Harry can see layers of magic over the hat in such a delicate weave that Harry knows it'd be a long, long time before Harry could use any magic as great as that.

Professor Strict-Bun-Lady begins calling off students' names and the students would put on the hat and wait for it to sort them into their correct houses.

Harry had watched the first student (Abbot, Hannah!) with interest as she'd climbed up the stool and placed the hat on her head. Harry'd watched as the woven magic all around the hat stretched down over Hannah's mind in, what appeared to Harry to be, Legilimency.

_Would Occlemency shield me from the hat?_ Harry wonders before remembering that he needed the hat to read his mind.

Harry watches as Crabbe, Goyle, and then Malfoy are all sorted into Slytherin.

Finally, Bun-Lady calls out, "Potter, Harry."

A hush falls over the Great Hall and Harry walks slowly up to the stool. Picking the hat up and sitting down, he places the hat on top of his head. The silence breaks and everyone begins muttering as if on cue.

_Hmmm. . .where do I put you. Courage, yes. Cunning as well. A good mind, but not Ravenclaw, no. . .hmmmm. . . .Not Hufflepuff either, definitely not. But where to put you. . . ?_

_Erm. . . Can you hear me?_ Harry thinks.

_Of course,_ the hat 'says', _I see into your mind of course._

_Good. Then it doesn't matter to me where I'm placed. I don't think Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff would be suited to me either. I like Gryffindor and Slytherin best._

_You'd do well in Slytherin, _the hat suggests.

_Sure. Put me there then._

_You'd take my word on it, just like that? _the hat asks.

_Well,_ begins Harry_, they'd probably the best if I'm bringing a pet snake, and the Gryffindor colors are a bit garish. _

_If that is your choice then, better be _"Slytherin!"

The hush is back over the hall. This is clearly not what was expected. Draco Malfoy begins clapping enthusiastically and is copied by Crabbe and Goyle, then, finally, the rest of the Slytherin table.

Harry walks over to Draco who has made room for him beside himself and Goyle, "Congratulations, Harry."

"Thanks," Harry says with a grin.

"I never thought you were going to be sorted. What took so long?"

Harry shrugs, "Apparently the hat wanted to make sure that I choose my house. He wouldn't just put me in Slytherin, he had to make sure I _decided _I liked it better than the other houses."

Draco smiles at him, "Still, I'm glad you're here."

Harry smiles, "You know what? Me too."

* * *

**Reviews? **

**Pleeeaaaaase?**


	4. Chapter 4

**No Ownage**

Chapter Four

The first day of Hogwarts passes quickly. Though the small tricks the teachers were teaching the first years were easy for Harry wandless, it took him a while to manage to figure out how to get his magic to flow out of the wand. The wand amplified Harry's magic, and made it easier for Harry to do what the teachers expected, but it still took a few minutes for Harry to adapt each spell, even though he'd already been able to cast the spells wandless.

Yet for the other students, who had never done these spells before with or without wands, it was much harder, and Harry often found himself the first to have his spell work completed.

His second day wasn't nearly as painless. For their last class of the day, the Slytherins had double potions with the Gryffindors.

"You'll love Professor Snape," Draco says as he, Harry, Crabbe, and Goyle entered the dungeons together, "He's my godfather. He's supposed to be a wicked cool teacher."

Harry sure hoped Snape would be a good teacher. As his head of house, Harry wanted to be on good terms with him.

"Take your seats," Snape snaps at a group of Gryffindors hovering at the front of the room.

"Morning, Draco," Snape says. Then with a grimace, "Potter."

Harry blinks, affronted.

Harry watches as Snape struts about in front of his students, giving an obviously prepared speech about potions.

Harry notices that he almost directly quotes the introduction to _The Arte of Potions_.

"Potter," Snape says suddenly, "What would I get if I added asphodel to wormwood?"

"Erm. . . ." Harry says, thinking back to the required book, _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_, which he'd read before term, "A Draught of Living Death, Sir?"

Snape blinks in confusion; obviously he'd been expecting a wrong answer, "Where would a find a bezoar?"

Harry knew the answer to this one instantly; it'd been mentioned in the last chapter he read in _The Arte of Potions_. "The stomach of a goat, Sir."

Snape's eyes widen further. Apparently he hadn't expected him to get any _extra_ reading material on the subject, "What's the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"Erm. . ." this question takes Harry a moment, "I didn't know there was a difference. I thought they were the same plant."

"Correct," Snape says distractedly, "It's also known as aconite," he snaps out of his daze and snaps, "Draco! Did you tell Potter the answers?"

"No, Professor," Draco says.

"Very well," Snape says. Then looking at the rest of the class, "Well? Why aren't you all writing this down?!"

* * *

The rest of the potions class goes the same way; Snape keeping a close eye on Harry and being completely stunned when Harry does everything perfectly.

Draco watches with something akin to horror as his godfather tries (and fails) again and again to find fault with his new friend. Why would his godfather do that? Especially to another Slytherin? Wasn't that kind of behavior for other houses?

When class ends, Draco sends Harry, Goyle, and Crabbe ahead, saying he'd catch up later and sticks around after class. After the last few stragglers leave, he addresses his godfather, "Uncle Sev, what was up with you today?"

"What are you talking about?" Snape asks, not an ounce of emotion detectable in his voice.

"Why'd you pick on Harry like that?" Draco complains.

"Are you questioning my teaching?" Snape asks voice cold as ice sickles, "Because that would not be suitable."

Draco's eyes harden, "No Professor, I suppose it wouldn't be," and then he turns tail and walks briskly out of the classroom.

And nearly runs over Harry and Tweedle-Dumb and Tweedle-Dumber. Draco blinks in surprise, "I thought you'd went on to class ahead of me?"

"'Nah," Harry says with a smile, "I wasn't about to leave my first friend from Hogwarts alone with that git, Snape. I thought you said he was a good teacher."

Draco frowns, "I'm not sure what's wrong with him. He's always been really nice to me before, and I'd heard he treated Slytherins better than the other houses."

"Well he sure doesn't like me," Harry grumbles.

"Sorry," Draco says apologetically.

"It's not your fault he's a git. The grease-ball. Hasn't he heard of shampoo?"

A corner of Draco's mouth turns upward, "Normally I wouldn't want anyone to insult my godfather like that, but he more than deserves a few snide comments after the way he treated you. _Merlin_ what was his _problem_? Have you even seen the man before in your entire life?"

Harry shakes his head.

* * *

Severus Snape is not brought up again until later than night in the Slytherin dormitories, "Do you want to try and get back at him?" Draco asks.

Harry shakes his head, "Nah. It seems to bother him that I did well in his class. I'm just going to read up on potions especially; make it my best class. I'll just make sure I'm always the best in the class. It'll be kind of hard if we always have potions with the Gryffindors though, that Hermione Granger is really smart."

"Ugh," Draco says, "The mud-blood? She's annoying. Have you taken the time to watch her? For even just two minutes? She's so bossy, it's not even funny. A real stickler to the rules. So very boring, and she never lets it rest until she proves she's smarter than everyone else."

The corners of Harry's mouth turn down, "Please don't say mud-blood in front of me. I'm against all forms of derogatory slang. And yes, she is annoying, but that doesn't mean she isn't smart. Being smart, even showing off a little is fine, but she just kind of shoves the fact she's smart down everyone's throats."

Draco nods in agreement, "Are you really going to let Professor Snape get away with being such a jerk and not do anything about it?"

Harry shrugs, "Well yeah. If I do something, he'll figure out it's me. He uses legilimency. And then he'll get me in trouble and he'll get what he wants."

Draco's eyes widen, "He uses legilimency on his students?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well. . ." Draco says, "There's no law against it or anything, but looking into students' minds would be frowned upon by most people. Legilimency is rarely used outside of a courtroom on anyone underage."

"It doesn't matter," Harry says, "I'm trying to learn Occlumency, and if I manage it, it won't make a difference if he uses Legilimency or not."

"How long have you been trying to learn Occlumency? Are you any good?" Draco asks.

"Well," Harry says, "I started working on it at the end of July, I spent all of August working on it and I still haven't made much progress."

Draco blinks, "But you learn things so fast! You're always the first person to finish class work."

Harry shakes his head, "But I've already mastered those spells. It took a lot of time and a lot of hard work. I'm not some super-student. I just came here with a head start. I hope I get Occlumency soon though, I'd rather not have that grease-ball poking around in my head."

"I don't suppose you could teach it to me once you figure it out?" Draco asks.

"Sure," Harry answers.

"Thanks," Draco says, "You know . . . you're really cool, Harry. I'm glad you're my friend."

At that Harry smiles, "Thank you. But if you don't mind me asking . . ." he looks around, making sure everyone in the dorm is asleep, "Why on earth did you want to be friends with Crabbe and Goyle?"

Draco sighs, "Well I thought they'd be good bodyguards. They're too stupid to be any good for conversation, but . . . I don't know, they might be good in a tight spot."

"While I don't think it's nice to call someone stupid, I agree that talking to either of them would be pointless," Harry says.

Draco sighs, "It's getting late. Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Draco," Harry says.

The small light beside Harry's bed turns off automatically as he pulls the covers over himself and falls asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Saturday, Harry is shaken gently, "Harry, get up."

"Mphhhhh," Harry mumbled. Then with a loud thump, he finds himself on the floor. He looks up to see Draco standing over him, "What'd you do that for?"

Draco shrugs, "You wouldn't get up, and it's time for breakfast."

"Food," Harry says, suddenly not quite as irritated.

"Yes," Draco says with a smile (his smile very much resembles a smirk).

"Why didn't you wake me up sooner?!" Harry asks.

* * *

Within minutes Harry is ready to go and is dragging Draco along with him at a crazy fast pace. So fast in fact, that as Harry turns them around a corner, he drags Draco straight into someone and knocking them over.

"Watch it!" Draco snaps at the fallen person.

Harry, seeing it to be Ron steps in, "Don't be like that," he offers a hand to Ron which is gratefully taken, "Ron's not a bad bloke, don't be so prejudiced."

"I wouldn't have said anything if the little git hadn't ran into us," Draco argues, glaring at the red-head.

"You know very well it was my fault!" Harry says, but he isn't really paid attention to as Draco and Ron had gone into another one of those your-dad-is-worse-than-my-dad arguments.

"Come on," Harry says loudly, "We'll be late if you keep arguing all day, we won't make it to breakfast."

Draco puts on his best sneer, "I wouldn't want to be held up on account of a weasel like him anyways."

"Sorry, Ron," Harry says, with an apologetic smile.

"Don't worry about it, Harry," Ron says, his voice level, then, "Malfoy," Draco's last name is spit as if it's a dirty word.

As Draco looks about ready to start yelling at Ron again, Harry drags him off away from the Gryffindor.

"Why do you let him get to you?" Harry asks, "He doesn't even do anything. He just defends himself from the things you say to him."

"I can't _not_ say something to the little blood-traitor," Draco says.

"Ugh," Harry says, "Another one of your prejudices. What's a blood-traitor again?"

Draco curls his lip up, "It's a pureblood who _likes_ muggle-borns."

"Oh?" Harry asks, "And what's the problem with them liking muggle-borns?"

"Blood-traitors sully their pure-blood lineage! They mate with muggles and muggle-borns and produce-" he cuts off sharply.

"Produce half-bloods?" Harry supplies, raising his eyebrows, "Are you prejudiced against me, Draco?"

"Well I-usually half-bloods. . . .but you. . . . ."

Ignoring the rest of Draco's sputtering, Harry jogs ahead, ignoring the blond calling him back.

Arriving in the Great Hall, Harry marches over to the Gryffindor table and sits next to Ron Weasley (who got there surprisingly quickly; he must've been hungry) with a simple, "Do you mind if I sit here?"

Ron looks at him surprised, "Erm. . .yeah, sure."

"You finally realize the Slytherins are all slimy gits then?" a small boy (almost as small as Harry) asks excitedly.

"No," Harry says, glaring at the boy, "_I'm_ a Slytherin, and I don't think _I'm_ a slimy git."

The boys cheeks turn red, "Of course not. Sorry."

"He does go' a poin' though," says Ron through a mouth of mashed potatoes, doing a very good impression of Hagrid.

Harry turns to round on him, Ron seeing the anger on the Slytherin's face quickly adds, "Not about the git part! I just meant how come your sitting with us?"

Draco walks up to the table, coming up behind Harry, eyes lowered, an apologetic expression on his face.

"Malfoy's getting on my nerves," Harry confesses, "He's all 'blood-traitor' this and 'mud-blood' that. I _am_ a half-blood. He's insulting my parents every time he spouts out that non-sense."

"Harry," Draco says, cautiously, causing Harry to turn around.

"What do _you _want?" Harry asks.

"I-I just. I didn't mean it that way. You're great. I didn't mean anything against you……_or_ your parents," he says, an apology written in his eyes.

"……..you apologize then?" Harry asks.

"Yes," Draco says, looking him straight in the eyes, "I'm sorry I upset you."

"Are you sorry you said what you said about blood-traitors and half-bloods?" Harry questions.

"I-I'm sorry I upset you, and it's a generalization, you're an exception to that," noticing the look on Harry's face he quickly adds, "Can't we agree to disagree?"

Harry sighs, "I suppose that works for now. . . if you promise not to say those types of things around me."

"Promise," Draco says quickly, ". . . .well, I promise to try, and if I start talking about that kind of stuff and you remind me, I'll stop."

"Thank you," Harry says, "Then I suppose you want me to go back over to the Slytherin table with you?"

Draco nods.

Harry lets out a sigh before getting up, "Bye," he says to Ron and the other Gryffindors around him.

"B-bye," one boy manages to stutter out. The rest just stare in shock at the Slytherin that had not only sat at the Gryffindor table, but had made a _Malfoy_ promise not to say 'mud-blood'.

Harry sits down beside Draco, and immediately a large brown owl begins to peck at Harry's hands, "Bloody bird," Harry mutters. The owl extends its leg and Harry unties a letter from it. Giving one last peck for good measure, the owl flies off.

"What'd you do that for!?" Harry shouts at the bird as it disappears out of one of the windows.

"Probably because you made it wait so long to give you the letter. It didn't expect you to be sitting at the Gryffindor table," Draco says.

Harry glares at him, "Whose side are you on?"

Draco raises his hands in defeat, "Never mind, whatever. That bird was totally out of line. He should never have bit you like that."

Harry smiles, "That's more like it."

"Whatever," Draco says with an eye roll, "Who's the letter from."

Harry unfolds the parchment

**Harry,**

**Would you mind coming over today around three for a cup of tea? I would really like to get to know you, Harry.**

**Hagrid.**

Harry passes the note over to Draco, "How do you feel about going over to see Hagrid?"

Draco quickly scans the note, "That oaf? I-" noticing the look on Harry's face, Draco quickly stops, "I-uh-I mean sure. I'd love to go with you. It'll be fun."

Harry grins brightly at him.

* * *

**This is a _very_ rough draft. I'll fix it up a little better soon, but I'm trying to crank out chapters to as many stories as I can this week. I can always edit them next week.**


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